Page 20 of Don't Make Me Fall
“Aren’t we all,” she mumbles.
“If you see Erin, can you let her know I lost my phone?”
“Sure,” she says, “But I lost mine too.”
“You did?”
“There was this incident with a moose and some marshy water. Let’s just say Mr. Moose: one, and Devin: zero.”
“That…sucks.”
Devin shrugs. “You know, it’s been a little freeing if I’m being honest.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Ever since I chucked my own phone over the side of a mountain, I’ve hardly thought about it. But that might have something to do with how preoccupied my hands and other body parts have been with a certain grumpy mountain man since that impulsive stunt.
“Why don’t you leave a message with Winnie?” Devin suggests. “I bet she’ll see Erin.”
“Good idea.”
I head to the lobby, not surprised to find Winnie at the front desk. I wonder if that woman ever sleeps. A couple dressed in matching flannel jackets disappears down a hall, but otherwise, it’s just the two of us. No sign of Erin, Reid, Hudson, or any other bridesmaids. I’m still a little thrown that I didn’t know Hudson was part owner of the lodge. My brother never mentioned that detail.
“How was your hike?” Winnie asks, her smile sweet as apple pie.
Her innocent question doesn’t keep me from blushing. Because every answer seems to border on inappropriate, I settle on, “The sunset was breathtaking.”
“I heard about the rockslide,” she says, genuine concern in her expression. “I hope you weren’t too rattled?”
“It was actually nice to be away from everything,” I admit, meaning it.
“You like Cinnamon Creek.” Not a question. A statement. Acorrectstatement.
“I know I haven’t been here long, but I kind of love this place. Part of me never wants to leave.”
“You could stay,” she suggests, her tone light but also hinting at serious.
“And do what?”
“Your brother mentioned that you’re an executive assistant for a big company.”
“Something like that.” I may have fudged the importance of my job a tad, including my title. But I didn’t want anyone to worry, especially Reid. I wanted everyone to believe I was happy and successful so they couldn’t see the misery behind the mask of fake smiles and fancy titles.
“I bet with your experience, you could work anywhere you wanted.”
“You think?”
“We’re looking for an event coordinator here at the lodge. I bet you’d be great at that.”
“Isn’t that what you do?” I ask, confused.
“I’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks. I’m spending the holidays with my twin sister Wilma in this charming little town called Alpine Valley. Have you heard of it?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“And besides,” Winnie continues, “this position needs someone with more tech skills than I have. There’s so much potential for the right person. You should consider it. I’m sure your brother would enjoy having you closer.”
Is this a sign?
Or wishful thinking?
